


Vanilla

by orangelightsaber



Series: Reylux Drabbles [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Mistaken identities, Multi, Reylux - Freeform, Some pain, This is just smut, its so porn-y I'm sorry, reylux AU, sex therapist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangelightsaber/pseuds/orangelightsaber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex Therapist AU</p><p>Dr. Kylo Organa finds himself in over his head when he tries to help a new couple.</p><p>(Reylux smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanilla

* * *

 

He moves quickly, setting aside stacks of paper as he searches the desk. _Where on earth was that spare key?_ His mother’s desk is far messier than expected given her favored hobby of yelling at him to clean up after himself when she visits—he files that away as ammo to use the next time his apartment’s disaster status is brought up over dinner.

 

A gentle knock at the door startles him.

 

“Dr. Organa?” comes a woman’s voice.

 

“Y—yes?” he replies instinctively, before realizing that the Dr. Organa she is looking for must be his mother. This is her office after all, and why on Earth would a young woman come to a sex therapist’s office looking for a physicist?

 

“Oh, hello,” continues the woman, swinging the already ajar office door open further and stepping into the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d got my message about having to come in a day earlier.”

 

 _Tell her it’s not you,_ says his brain, but something about the woman makes him pause.

 

She is oddly, captivatingly beautiful. All honey-gold skin and wide, bright eyes. Something about her is hard and soft all at once, a flower blooming in the desert, thorny expression hiding a delicate interior. Her mouth moves, drawing his attention to the smattering of freckles that trace over her nose. He forgets to breathe.

 

He realizes she’s said something and he’s missed it. _Fuck._

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?”

“You’re younger than I expected,” she repeats, blushing slightly.

 

“Oh, um, yes. I guess? I’m sorry, I suppose I don’t know what it was you were expecting.” _C’mon Kylo, get it together._

She lets out a laugh, throaty, deep, and larger than expected for such a small girl. “No, of course, that’s alright! It’s not a problem, just a surprise. You came very highly recommended.”

 

Kylo nearly preens at that before remembering that the compliment is in no way directed at him.

 

“—And of course my husband only ever wants the best.”

 

The wave of emotion within him that until this point had been cresting up, up, up crashes down suddenly. _Husband. Right. Of course._

 

“Rey?” comes a questioning voice from outside the door. Cold, authoritative.

 

“In here,” calls the woman, _Rey_.

 

The man enters, tall and lithe, fox-gold hair slicked back tight across the crown of his head. Something about him radiates power, rolling off him in thick waves, and Kylo knows suddenly that whatever this man asked of him, he would do it. His breath hitches slightly at the thought and Rey turns to glance at him, curious.

 

“Dr. Organa, this is my husband, Hux.”

 

 _Hux_. No indication of whether it’s a first name or surname. He moves to stand behind Rey, resting a hand against her neck, possessive. The tips of his fingers, long and pale, peek out around the edges of her golden neck and Kylo feels heat rise to his already warm cheeks.

 

 _Fuck, Kylo_. _Tell them you’re not a therapist. What are you doing? This can’t end well._ And yet—god, he wants to keep going. Just the thought of them, pale and gold, like night and day intertwined, fucking—all tender and hard—makes him bite his lip, the sting of it bringing him back to the present.

 

“Shall we begin?” asks Hux.

 

“Indeed,” says Kylo, rankled by the other man’s immediate assumption of authority. He reaches across his mother’s desk for a clipboard—really, anything to put distance between him and the man before him. He doesn’t like the way he’s being eyed, cold green-glass irises burning trails like fire up and down his face. He turns to Rey instead, the softness in her a comfort. He settles into a chair and gestures at the couch across from him. “So, what seems to be the problem?”

 

Rey blushes, but Hux has no hesitation before answering.

 

“Sexual incompatibility.”

 

“Ah,” says Kylo, doing his best not to blush as well, “Yes, good—well, not good, but good that you know what the problem is—,” he blinks, “—Tell me more about that.”

 

“I enjoy pain, Rey does not.”

 

The simplicity of the admission sends a shiver up Kylo’s spine. “Inflicting—or—,” he trails off; hoping the desperate hitch in his voice is less obvious to an outside listener.

 

A thin grin cracks out along Hux’s face. “I think you know the answer to that, _doctor.”_

 

Goosebumps prick out along Kylo’s skin. Something about the predatory nature of this man is inherently, impossibly arousing. He nearly jumps when Hux stands.

 

“But Rey,” Hux continues, “Rey enjoys something a bit softer. A gentle touch.” He extends his arm back towards his wife, beckoning. “Here, darling, perhaps it’s better shown.”

 

Her grin is equally wolfish as she allows herself to be pulled into his arms. Their kiss is smooth, sinuous, tender—and yet, Kylo can see from the clench of Hux’s hands at her waist that there is tension in them as well. Those hands— _fuck._

 

He raises the clipboard, half covering his face as a sigh slips through his lips. At least, he tells himself it’s a sigh. He nearly shudders as they both turn to look at him. There is a hunger in them, stark and dangerous, as the pretense of professionalism begins to peel away, layer by layer.

 

Rey tilts her head to the side. “I’m not sure he understands.”

 

“Indeed,” says Hux, hand against the small of her back as he steers her smoothly into Kylo’s lap, her long legs straddling his own. Kylo extends his mother’s clipboard between them, a talisman, attempting to ward them away with the symbols of her office. _Fuck, his mother is going to kill him. And yet—there’s nothing he wants more than to continue this—this session, whatever it is._

 

Kylo opens his mouth to protest—not that he wants to, but in keeping with his lingering sense of…professional duty, he supposes—when Rey bends her head to brush her lips softly against his own. His mind goes suddenly blank as what feels like an electric shock courses through his body, hot and heady.

 

Strong hands thread into his hair, jerking back sharply. He moans in earnest, arching his hips off the chair even as Rey presses down against him, pinning him. The stimulus is almost overwhelming as Hux’s hands move from his hair to his throat, pressing just hard enough to make Kylo squirm at the loss of breath.

 

“Perhaps its time we showed Rey how enjoyable a little pain can be. Would you like that, _Doctor_?”

 

A hiss of air ekes out through his teeth as he replies. “Yes. _Yes_.” Rey pulls back to grin at him.

 

“Good,” says Hux, in his element now. The red-haired man is brisk, shrugging off his coat and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. Kylo watches with interest as he rolls back each sleeve with a practiced, precise motion. Rey watches as well, shifting herself against Kylo as she takes in the sight. His cock throbs hotly at the rolling of her hips.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she whispers under her breath, eyes trained on Hux. “ _Yes._ ”

 

Kylo doesn’t realize he’s still clutching the clipboard until Rey tugs it gently from his hands. Her mouth is somehow both hot and cool on his neck as she kisses and nips in equal measure. Her clever fingers find the buttons of his shirt, prising at them until they pop open, one by one. Her hands trace their way along his chest, sighing softly over his skin. One hand reaches up to move along the curve of his jaw.

 

“Pretty,” she says, as her thumb traces gently along the outline of his lips. Kylo opens his mouth, biting tentatively at the tip of her finger, and she yelps, startled.

 

Hux chuckles from across the room, where he pulls a thin baton from the pocket of his coat, followed by a bottle of what appears to be lubricant. “See what I mean?” he asks, “Difficult.”

 

He strides back to where Kylo and Rey sit, cradled in the curve of the chair. He looks at Rey. A tilt of the head, a subtly lifted brow. She seems to understand, pushing herself off Kylo’s lap and walking smoothly to the couch, shedding clothes as she goes until she’s left in almost nothing

 

Kylo’s stills at the sight, eyes tracking each movement. She moves languidly, a cat draping itself along the sunlight. Small, pert breasts barely concealed behind a thin lace bra. He finds himself captivated by the dusting of freckles marred out along her golden skin, mantling her shoulders and tracing their way across her chest.

 

He’s leaning forward, enraptured, when Hux growls softly in his ear. Kylo starts, not realizing the other man had come so close.

 

Hux’s hands clutch at his shirt, strong, rough, pulling him up out of the chair as his lips crash forward to meet Kylo’s own. _Fuck._ It’s a completely different kind of kiss than Rey’s. Harsh and raw as Hux traps Kylo’s lips between his own and bites, pushing him backward with a knee between his legs, pressing tight against the growing bulge of his erection.

 

They break apart several seconds later, panting.

 

“On your knees, Doctor. Naked,” comes Hux’s voice, and _god_ , Kylo has never been more pleased to obey an order in his life. He meets Rey’s eyes as he tugs off his shirt and pants, almost embarrassed as his cock springs out, eager. He kneels quickly, a shiver of anticipation cresting its way up his spine.

 

“Kylo,” he says, resisting the urge to cover himself and _desperate_ to hear the sound of his name on their lips. “Call me Kylo.”

 

“Very well. _Kylo_ ,” says Hux, “I believe I require some instruction in—tenderness,” his voice is dark, dangerous, and Kylo watches Rey’s tongue dart out to trace wetly along her lips. “Perhaps you can show me?”

 

Kylo nods, and at once he feels the hard sole of Hux’s booted foot against his back, pushing him forward until his face rests snugly between Rey’s thighs.

 

Kylo exhales softly and Rey squirms indelicately at the sensation, his hot breath fluttering against the thin silk, the only barrier between them. “ _Fuck,_ yes,” she whispers, undone, “Please.”

 

He grins at the invitation, pressing forward, hands gripping greedily at her thighs. He stops short as he feels a cool touch along his back. Turning back over his shoulder he’s met with Hux’s eyes, and the cold, flexible material of the baton as it traces down the ridge of his spine.

 

“Rey will be gentle, I’ll be rough,” Hux grins darkly, “You can tell us afterward which method is the correct one.”

 

“And if he can’t decide?” asks Rey, challenging, eyes devilish.

 

“Well then, we’ll continue the experiment until a conclusion can be made.” Hux punctuates his final word with a quick run of the baton over Kylo’s ass and Kylo shivers—as confusing as this game is, he’s thrilled to be playing. He flexes and arches his back unconsciously. He’s suddenly desperate for touch, hungry, yearning, wanting, and it seems like nothing could ever be enough.

 

Rey threads her hands into Kylo’s hair, pulling him back down. He smiles and presses an open mouthed kiss against her sex, heady. She is hot and sweet under his tongue, each sliding movement forcing her legs against his head as she quivers.

 

Hux’s hands are cool as they rake their way down his back, just hard enough to sting. “More,” Kylo chokes out, wanton, thrilled as the vibration of his voice causes Rey to arch against him. “More, _Hux_.”

 

The whistle of the baton through the air is his only answer, the sweet, hot sting of it across his ass like a kiss, swift and sharp. “Ah-aah,” he keens, the sound slipping from his mouth unbidden. And then the cool press of a hand, tracing along the flamed red mark. Sweetly soothing.

 

Another whistle and strike, he doesn’t cry out this time, merely rolling his hips into the sensation, mouth still working against Rey. He can tell Hux is pleased by this, the soothing hand resting longer along the searing blaze of pain. His long fingers curl around Kylo’s hip, teasing against the sharply protruding bone, dipping slowly along the flat of his belly, at once so close and so far from his cock that Kylo thinks he might just _break_ from wanting.

 

A third strike, and then a fourth. Each presses him forward, his leaking cock pinned against the rough fabric of the couch. He ruts his hips forward, desperate for sensation, before Hux’s hand on his back stills him. _Wait_ , it says.

 

And so he does. He can feel Rey is close beneath him, and Hux seconds his thoughts, placing his palm against Kylo’s head, pressing him deeper, harder, closer. Rey cries out at the change, hips jerking up into him, desperate. And then she’s coming, flooding sweet and wet around his tongue as she clenches, a soft cry torn from her lips. He pulls back and she leans close to kiss the shining essence of herself off his face, tender and smirking.

 

It’s the cue Hux has been waiting for, as lube-slicked fingers trace their way suddenly along the crease of Kylo’s ass. Kneading tenderly at the edges of him as Hux presses in, in, soft and firm at once. The sensation is exquisite, tight and full and stretched and taut and he wants _more_.

 

“Ah _fuck_ ,” he gasps, face scrunching tight as Hux presses against him, the hot line of his cock burning as it traces along the earlier welts, leaving a slick wet trail of arousal, marking him. And then pressing, demanding, entering, _fuck,_ had anything ever felt like this? Slick and sinuous and _aching_ , the feeling cresting with each thrust.

 

Rey’s hands are tight at the sides of his face, cradling him, pressing soft kisses along his cheeks as Hux’s hips pound against his. The cool touch of her lips a sharp, insistent contrast to the searing bites Hux peppers into his shoulders. He feels like iron forged, the striking, rhythmic beat and the quenching cool at odds within him, so overwhelming he might burst.

 

Each snap of Hux’s hips presses him into the waiting grasp of Rey’s arms, a sweet salve. His eyes are clenched tight, so tight, leaking tears, but the pain is fantastic, the singing slap of skin against each welt. His cock is pinned tight against the couch and he’s close, he’s _so close._

 

There’s movement in front of him and he can see Rey leaning forward, her hands still cupped around his face, to bring her lips against Hux’s own. It’s somehow the strangest and most tender thing he’s ever witnessed and he’s coming, oh, _god_ , he’s coming, spurting hot and thick across the rough material of the couch. He breathes deep, sweaty, face pressed against the hard plane of Rey’s belly and Hux follows him, fingernails cutting skin as he comes, hard, shaking.

 

They collapse together, all, panting.

 

Kylo’s hand rests against Rey’s belly, moving with her as she laughs, “That was quite the therapy session.”

 

“Oh, he’s no therapist,” says Hux, and the admission startles Kylo so that he tenses, poised for trouble. _Fuck, he knew? How long had he known?_ Though Kylo supposes he’s glad no one will be reporting ‘Dr. Organa’ for any ethics violations.

 

Rey’s eyebrows jut upwards, “Oh?”

 

Hux looks mildly amused. “You didn’t know? Darling, I thought you’d planned it—it’s almost my birthday.”

 

She laughs, then, and the tension slips from Kylo’s shoulders as she continues. “I thought _you’d_ planned it. You made me change the appointment date.”

 

Neither seems too fussed by the idea that they’ve just fucked a complete stranger claiming to be someone else. Somehow, this only serves to make them more intimidating and Kylo shifts, somewhat awkwardly, against the couch, suddenly very conscious of his nakedness.

 

“You’re not a friend of Rey’s?” clarifies Hux, as he gives Kylo a once over, “Or a prostitute?”

 

He shakes his head, oddly flattered.

 

“Who are you then?” asks Rey, curious.

 

Kylo clears his throat, uncomfortable, “I actually _am_ Dr. Organa—just not the one you came here to see. I’m her son.”

 

Hux scoffs at that. “And you spend your time lurking about her office and fucking her patients because…”

 

“I wasn’t lurking,” sputters Kylo, suddenly peeved. He’s amazed despite himself at Hux’s ability to go from arousing to annoying in a split second. _Quite the talent_. “I was looking for the spare key to my apartment.”

 

“Hm,” replies Hux, unconvinced, but that’s the end of it as Rey struggles to sit up, pinned as she is by their sweat-slicked bodies.

 

She turns to face Kylo, soft and fierce at once--the afterglow of sex making her radiant. “Hungry?”

 

He grins, suddenly more relaxed in the knowledge that whatever this situation is, _she_ at least seems nonplussed by it. “Starving,” he replies, standing as his eyes drift along the couch. More specifically, along the large smear of his cum spread prominently along the front of the cushions. _Ruined. Fuck._

 

“Christ.” He runs a large hand across his face. “This is my mother’s office. We have to _burn_ that couch.”

 

Hux, unfazed, imperious, arches a brow. “How heavy is it?”

 

Rey and Kylo move simultaneously, each hefting one side of the couch in their hands, testing the weight of it.

 

“Surprisingly light,” replies Rey, in tune with whatever wavelength Hux is suddenly on. “It’ll look lovely in the bedroom,” she continues, and Kylo can’t help but blush. The thought of their bedroom, shared, private, brings another level of intimacy to the arrangement and he shifts awkwardly, not sure where he fits in to all this.

 

Rey pulls her sweater over her head, and wiggles her pants up her legs.

 

Hux stands, moving to retrieve his heavy coat. He is utterly unashamed of his nakedness (and why shouldn’t he be, thinks Kylo, all milk-skin and fine red-gold hair) as he pulls a checkbook from his pocket and scribbles quickly down its length.

 

A quick tear and the check flutters to rest on the large mahogany desk. Curious, Kylo inches closer as he pulls on his pants. Deliberately ignoring the absolutely _exorbitant_ amount of money, his eyes drift down to the memo line. Neat yet jagged capitals read:

 

_For your son’s invaluable therapy services, and for your couch._

Kylo bites back a laugh as he follows them out the door.

* * *

 


End file.
